Delirium
by speederina
Summary: Ciel Phantomhive makes a deal with a demon for vengeance and pleasure. Inappropriate content follows.
1. Chapter 1

Well. It has certainly been a while. This is a very brief entry, possibly the start of something bigger, possibly not. I'm curious as to your thoughts. I will leave out the explanations and synopses and let you come to your own conclusions.

Rated M for a very good reason.

I do not own Black Butler or any of its characters.

Ciel Phantomhive screamed, tearing at the flesh of her attackers. She could not see them, only the filthy bag they had pulled over her head.

"Little prick," one of them exclaimed as a wild kick landed between his legs.

Ciel regretted this as soon as someone caught her with a vicious backhand. Her mouth filled with blood and her head spin, nearly losing consciousness.

"This little pisser is hardly worth the trouble, his skinny arse won't fetch more than a few shillings."

Slavers. Fuck. She was so fucked.

After the backhand, she couldn't put up much of a fight and they quickly wrestled her to the ground. One of them happened to catch a handful of her tits in the process. Curse her bad luck. She wasn't very gifted in that area, and her recent lack of nourishment hadn't done her any favors, but there was still enough flesh to attract the wrong kind of attention.

The slaver cursed and ripped apart her already scrappy clothing, going slack-jawed at the sight of her female parts, pitiful as they were.

As the group began to paw at her flesh and quickly destroyed her remaining clothing, Ciel almost started to pray, pleading for help from a higher power she no longer believed existed.

One of the men touched her between her legs, forcing a finger inside her delicate flesh. She screamed again, this time muffled by the bag, now shoved into her mouth, serving as a gag.

Blinded by the dark cloth, she felt everything. Every violating touch, mauling her in areas that had not fully matured. She smelled their stinking flesh, heard their lewd words and harsh breathing as they grasped at her waning innocence.

In the depths of her enforced darkness, Ciel felt her prayers hangs. They turned desperate and hateful.

And then.

Something answered.

To Ciel, it seemed as if everything had paused. The darkness became absolute, apart from a shape that seemed even darker as if it radiated an absence of light.

"You have summoned me." It spoke in a soft, deep voice that made her whole being shudder. "For that, you will never pass through the gates of heaven. _What is your wish?_ "

The question seemed to have been whispered into her ear. Her mind scrambled for an answer.

"I want..."

"Yes?" It was seductive, drawing her deeper into the darkness. She felt herself drifting.

"I want... To experience ecstasy."

She felt tendrils of sensation all over her body, nearly rolled her eyes back at the pleasure. She thought the voice might have laughed.

"And revenge," she whispered.

"Against these men?" the voice probed, as the sensations nearly made her lose her thoughts entirely.

"These men. And all those responsible for my suffering."

"All may be achieved. But there is a price."

"What price?" she murmured, writhing in pleasure as her every nerve ending was stimulated.

"Your soul."

Ciel moaned, feeling a torrent of pleasure tear through her body.

"Take it!" she screamed, sobbing at the feelings she was experiencing. This pleasure was worth anything. Everything.

"Then we have a deal."

Pain seared through her body, focused most intensely in her right eye, burning as if from a brand. She screamed in ecstasy and agony, and then she felt nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Reality came crashing back like the fast-approaching ground after a long fall.

All around her were screams. They sounded almost inhuman, and Ciel cringed as violent images of what was happening ran through her mind. They stopped after a few seconds and there was silence.

She was lifted up to her knees and the bag was pulled from her head. The alleyway where she'd been jumped was totally empty, apart from the bodies that scattered the ground. No, not bodies. Disembodied limbs and torsos, a couple heads. These must be the men who jumped her. Ciel felt a wave of sickness come over her and emptied her stomach onto the ground beside her. Well, dry heaved would be more accurate. She had eaten nothing for the past couple days, only drinking from dirty puddles.

When she looked up, before her was the shape from her... Dream? Remembering those brief minutes sent shivers down her spine at the aching pleasure she'd experienced. At the will of this creature?

The creature had the same effect in this world, seeming to absorb all the light around its form and consume it without a trace.

"Ciel Phantomhive." It spoke with the same soft voice she remembered. "I have wreaked vengeance at your command. I will serve you until your desires are achieved."

She stared, her eyes wide.

"It is your choice in what form I will serve you. I will alter my appearance to your desire."

She blushed at his words and thought for a moment.

"You will be my butler," she commanded, remembering like an old friend her flawless nobility.

She heard a chuckle. "Very well."

The dark shape began to transform, and as she watched, it morphed into a tall, lean man with elegant features and inky black hair. He wore a butler's uniform with a long tailcoat jacket. He stood proudly, as if a noble pose came naturally to him. This creature was far from subservient, that much was obvious.

"What shall I call you?" she asked him, struggling to keep her face impassive at his magical display.

He knelt on one knee with a flourish, one gloved hand to his heart. "I am Sebastian Michaelis."

"And what are you, creature, who defies the laws of nature?"

He looked up at her, a smile tugging at his lips, and she saw that his eyes were a striking amber. Ciel's breath caught in her throat at the sight, but she couldn't say exactly why.

"I am a demon, my lady."

Her surprise at the revelation was overtaken by disgust at how he had addressed her.

"I am not your lady!" she rebuked him harshly. "I will never accomplish anything as a lady, revenge is a male pursuit, and they hold all the power in this world. You will address me as 'my lord' and you will preserve my secret."

He nodded. "Yes, my lord."

The way he said those words, with a hint of foreign accent she couldn't place, it made shivers run through her body.

"What is your desire?" He looked her straight in the eye, still kneeling before her.

Ciel fumbled for a moment. She had never expected such an opportunity and she was unsure where to begin. She knew she wanted revenge, but that would be a long process. Right now, she was cold and hungry. And naked. She hugged herself and shivered.

"You are my butler!" she shouted at him, feeling weak and humiliated in the presence of this powerful creature. "You should know my desire and have it completed before I can think to ask."

A small look of surprise crossed the demon's face for a moment.

"Of course. Forgive my blunder, my lord."

Faster than the eye could register, he was beside her. She gasped and fell backwards in shock, but found herself caught and held in a warm embrace, her face pressed to his immaculate vest. The material was soft and of the highest quality. She closed her eyes and inhaled. A small moan escaped her mouth, muffled by his clothes. He smelled... Heavenly. And yet she couldn't identify a single scent. Except one. The tiniest trace of sulfur.

He shook off his jacket and wrapped it around her.

"Apologies, this is will have to do until we procure new clothing for you. Please, hold on tight, young master."

Ciel must never admit how much she enjoyed that request. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he supported her back and legs in his arms. Suddenly, the world became a blur. His long jacket protected her from the vicious wind created by their speed, and she found herself clutching his body in true fear for a moment.

Then they stopped. Overlooking her childhood home. It had been years since she had seen it whole. Now it was gutted by fire and the blackened ruins were slowly being consumed by nature. Tears came to her eyes, but she dashed them away.

"My lord, I must set you down for a moment."

She nodded and Sebastian placed her on a small mound some distance away from the overgrown ruins. He knelt before her again, this time close enough to touch.

"How would you like your new home, my lord?"

"Make it exactly like it was. Down to the last stray pebble."

He bowed his head.

Then he was gone, a barely visible blur again. Before her eyes, the ruins disappeared, quickly overtaken by a new foundation, new walls, paint, trimmings. Down to the last detail, the manor rose from the ground up, nothing neglected, inside or out. And it seemed to age even as it grew, the paint chipped there, the stones cracked over there.

When it was finished, the same attention was taken to the grounds. Beautiful English gardens were cultivated out of the wild undergrowth, the hedges were tamed and trimmed, and a long path appeared, stretching until it reached where she sat, just off the main road. All of this was accomplished in less than a minute.

Sebastian knelt before her, a proud smirk on his lips.

"It is done, my lord."

"I see that, demon." She stared at him. "How did you know what it looked like?"

He looked up at her with amusement. After all his magical displays so far, only this, she questioned.

"I looked into your memory, my lord."

"Oh."

 _And what else had he found there?_ she wondered. Her parents' deaths, the loss of her family and home. How she had traded all of her fine things for the scraps of clothing those men had torn away from her. Years of struggling just to survive. Losing nearly every scrap of dignity until she retained but a distant memory of her heritage.

It was not a distant memory now. Her family home stood there in all its glory. Old and illustrious, and yet the freshly disturbed undergrowth spoke of how unnatural it was. Her family home was gone. Along with her family.

All that remained were a pile of old stones pretending to be a home. And her butler. A demon hungry for her soul.

"Are you alright, master?" The demon sounded concerned and placed a hand on her cheek.

She grabbed his wrist and his grotesquely pristine uniform and pulled him down until his lips crashed into hers.


	3. Chapter 3

His lips were like the softest velvet. Her own chapped lips must feel like course sand in comparison. Sebastian did not pull away, instead wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. One gloved hand gripped the back of her neck as he bent her over, the other lightly caressing the small of her back.

Ciel moaned against his mouth and felt his tongue slip between her lips.

She pulled away and slapped him across the face. Again, a look of surprise crossed his face, but he did not let her fall, only set her down gently and bowed his form.

"Apologies, my lord. Any Phantomhive butler worth his salt would know better than to engage in such behavior with his master."

"Yes, now find me some clothes!"

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel was still shivering, but not from cold. She shivered at the loss of his warmth, his touch, his lips... But she couldn't let the demon know what a power he held over her. Not with her soul and vengeance at stake.

"If I may, my lord..."

Sebastian knelt to take her into his arms. She hugged his coat around her naked form and allowed him to carry her to the manor. Inside, it was richly decorated, with soft carpets and expensive, gold-framed paintings. They arrived at the master bedroom, where the Earl would have his quarters. Where her father...

Here, the décor differed from her memory, but she couldn't say it was not to her liking. He had her preference down to the smallest detail. He finally set her down as they entered the master bathroom, extravagant and spacious to a point where she felt almost insignificant. He ran the bath until steam curled from the water and took her hand, steadying her as she stepped into the tub.

She nearly sank beneath the surface of the water. The porcelain bathtub made her feel like an awkward child. She didn't belong in this room.

"I will leave you to your bath, my lord."

"No!" Ciel grabbed a handful of the butler's trousers as he turned away.

Sebastian turned around and looked her straight in the eye. She saw the amber and felt herself fading, drifting away. Suddenly she was seeing him through her bathwater. He pulled her up with one hand behind her head and she felt like Sleeping Beauty awakening for her prince. Mindlessly, she reached for him, like a drowning man reaches for dry land.

In her hands she found soap and a soft cloth. She stared at them, confused.

"Apologies, young master, I neglected the soap."

He wore a mischievous smirk. No, he was certainly not a creature accustomed to servitude. Her face went bright red and her ears must have singed from the heat of her embarrassment.

"You will bathe me!"

He didn't even blink at her outburst. "Now, young master, is that any way to get what you want?"

Ciel could only stare, her embarrassment rising. The demon had just brought her even lower until she felt no larger than an insect crushed beneath his boot. Wasn't he supposed to give her pleasure? To serve her, like he had said before. Not humiliate her.

He sighed and leaned close. "What's the magic word?" he whispered.

She stared across the tub, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Very well." She thought he sounded disappointed. "Enjoy your bath, young master. Call for me when you are finished."

The door closed softly behind him.

Ciel ducked her head under the water again, trying to cool her burning face. She made short work of the soap, finding she could not clean herself enough after the years of grime and dirt that had accumulated on her flesh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a bath that wasn't in river or rainwater. The hot water soothed her aching body and she found herself relaxing for the first time since she had lost her home. She'd had to remain alert to survive and survival was a hard habit to break. Although she'd come close on one occasion. She tried not to remember. It filled her with disgust at her own weakness.

After a while, her soapy cloth relaxed from harsh scrubbing into soft, caressing strokes. Her guiding hand wandered between her thighs to where the men had groped her. She hissed in pain. The area was bruised and sensitive. She abandoned the cloth, letting it float to the surface of the water as her hand replaced it. With the softest touch, she explored her budding womanhood. She'd never understood people's fascination with their privates. On the streets, she'd witnessed many frantic couplings. They couldn't possibly be enjoyable for either party, but especially the woman. Why else would they be paid for it? Ciel pictured an old, fatuous man slobbering over her, mouth open and drooling between her legs. She almost retched.

Then she pictured Sebastian, with his now familiar smirk, his hand lightly caressing her thighs, which opened like those of the cheapest whore at his unspoken request. He didn't need to request. Didn't even need to touch her. He had given her a taste of ecstasy without laying a hand on her. Remembering those moments, her mouth fell open and she whimpered softly. Her hand on her pussy grew rougher, more demanding, reaching for that pleasure again. She didn't even come close to finding it.

"My lord, you sounded distressed."

Her eyes opened slowly at his voice. In her foggy mind, she couldn't find the will to chastise him for embarrassing her once again. Instead she gave voice to her lust.

"Sebastian... Please..." Her voice was hoarse and slurred with desire.

He smiled, kinder this time.

"You only had to ask, my lord."

He knelt next to the tub and kissed her softly. One of his hands gripped the back of her neck and although it felt like the lightest touch, Ciel thought if she tried to pull away it would feel more like a steel collar. Still, she ached for his touch. Her body writhed in the tub as she struggled to give relief to her most sensitive parts.

Sebastian saw her clumsy motions and tsked at her attempts. He twisted her body until she lay on her back, her head hanging backwards over the side. He pulled her hands away, ignoring her disappointed whine, and clasped them around his neck. Then he kissed her again, this time his tongue danced at her lips while his fingers danced over her flesh. She squirmed in the water, making a good amount slosh onto the floor, and moaned against his lips.

He chuckled. "Patience, little lord."

Her eyes flew open, wanting to screech at him. She saw fire in his eyes and knew that if she did, he would walk away in that instant. Her fury experienced a fast and humiliating demise and she looked at him with shame, but pleaded wordlessly for him to go on. He smirked, continuing to tease her until she gave up her voice.

"Ahhhh... Sebastian, please!"

"Please... What?" he whispered.

"I don't know!" she sobbed. Never had she been more frustrated with her innocence. Would that those men had taken it from her so that she could understand her feelings. But they would not have been so gentle.

He flicked her side painfully. "Where have your thoughts wandered, little lord?" he teased. "I had forgotten your innocence. You are so passionate, like a little firebrand."

He stroked her sex finally, but it seemed only to increase her distress. She whimpered and whined and he devoured the sounds as he covered her mouth with his.

"Mmm, come for me, kitten," he murmured.

Pleasure overwhelmed her and she felt her body spasm against him. He swallowed her cries and returned them with a growl of his own.

It seemed to go on forever, as the sensation did not fade or stop. Her vision dimmed and she drifted from consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

"My lord?"

Her eyes opened slowly to see Sebastian still kneeling over in her the bath. She remembered what had happened, what she had let him, begged him to do, and she couldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm alright," she muttered. "Get me out of the bath, the water is cold."

"Yes, my lord."

He lifted her from the tub and swaddled her in a huge, fuzzy towel. He dried her off slowly, deliberately. His hands, even through the towel, left tingles along her flesh. Her legs shook and she could barely stand upright.

"Dress me, demon, I am tired of nakedness." She meant her voice to be harsh, but it came out throaty and hoarse.

"My lord." He did not quicken his movements in any way and continued to linger with the towel.

"Demon? Did you not hear me?" Her voice quavered and she cursed her disgusting weakness.

"Yes, my lord." He looked her in the eye, his lips curling. "However, unlike you, I am not tired of your naked form. It is quite pleasing to the eye, master."

Ciel's eyes widened at his insolence. She should have known better than to give him so much power over her. Why couldn't she resist him? She felt nothing for any human man, never had, even before her family was lost. But this demon... For him, she was a desperate creature, starved for pleasure and eager to take whatever he would give. She had even specified in her deal with him, that he should give her pleasure. What had she been thinking? Her mind fogged by those sensations, she'd thought of nothing but prolonging them.

Well. Admittedly, she had also considered that she was not long for this world, with or without the demon's help. Why not make the most of her time here, make the most of this creature so willing to make her desires a reality?

Indeed.

Her nobility was a complete farce. The queen had long ago returned her title to the control of the throne. The only reason this manor existed was because of Sebastian. He was the only reason she was still whole, and not sold as a slave to some terrible monster for a few pennies. To think. Even her weak, malnourished flesh must surely be worth at least a shilling.

To Sebastian, she was worth becoming a butler to a prideful and misbehaved little brat. Or at least, her soul was. What was it about her? What did he see?

Ciel looked towards the mirror on the wall and gasped. Suddenly, she remembered the dazzling pain in her eye, sealing the promise of her soul for his service.

"Sebastian?" she called him softly.

"My lord?" He didn't look up.

"What have you done to my eye?"

He finished drying her, finally, and rose to his feet. He was standing only inches away. She could smell that hint of sulfur again. It made her nose itch. He smiled tenderly and touched her cheek.

"My dear master," he spoke softly, "That is the mark of our contract. Our bond."

"What is its purpose?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. She couldn't think, her body telling her to lean into his touch, to rub his hand like a kitten.

"It allows me to keep track of you. Quite bluntly, it marks you as food. My food, specifically."

That revelation did not surprise her. Nor did the ease with which he discussed devouring that one part of her that was truly Ciel Phantomhive. She looked into the mirror once more, examining the curious mark centered around her pupil. It marred the deep blue of her iris into a glowing purple. She thought if she were ever in a dark room, she would never lose the light from that dim glow.

"I have one as well, young master." He pulled off the glove on his left hand with his teeth in a deft movement.

His fingernails were black. And on the top of his hand there was a mark identical to hers, though a bit larger. She grasped his hand gently in both of hers and looked at it. There was silence for a moment.

Then she brought his hand to her lips and kissed the mark softly. Now his eyes widened.

"Please dress me, Sebastian, I am cold."

He blinked. "Yes, my lord."

He guided her into the bedroom where an elegant outfit was already picked out, laying across the bed. It was a navy blue, with far too many ruffles and lacy trails for her taste. Still, it was a male outfit at least, she thought. The style was, from what little she knew, a bit outdated. But the fabric was of the highest quality, and it looked soft and warm.

Sebastian made a brief affair of dressing her, to her immense relief. He had removed both of his gloves, since they were saturated with water from the bathtub. Likewise, his sleeves were rolled up.

He had made one addition her to costume that she knew was out of the ordinary. A trail of silk cloth that he wrapped around her chest, though it was hardly necessary. Another safeguard to her gender couldn't hurt, however.

He finished buttoning her outfit and regarded her.

"It becomes you well, young master."

The way he said it... She blushed and stared at the floor. She was uncomfortable in all this finery, after years on the streets. She felt restrained and totally encumbered. It was very warm though.

Her stomach growled.

He smiled, leaned close, and whispered into her ear.

"Let us find you something to eat, young master. You must be starved..."

Her face turned bright red again at his innuendo, and she did nothing but stare at her feet as he guided her through the manor. His hand on her back made her want to squirm and grind herself into him. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain composed.

Sebastian chuckled. "Your restraint is quite adorable, little lord. But you will only tire yourself." He squeezed her back. "I want you awake and experiencing everything I do to your quivering flesh."

She choked, couldn't breathe for a moment. By the time she thought of a rebuke for her now-intolerably insolent butler, he had seated her at the head of a long, empty table.

He flourished a napkin and before her appeared a plate of food. Ciel was sorely disappointed with its contents.

"My lord, if you gorge yourself on rich food, you will only do further harm. You must start slowly and accustom your body to eating more than discarded scraps."

She acquiesced grudgingly. "Fine."

"Today I have prepared for you some buttered toast and a glass of hot milk with honey."

He touched her chin, drawing her gaze into his scorching eyes. "You will consume all that I have prepared, or you will have no dessert."

Ciel shoved his hand away angrily at his continued insinuations.

"I will eat however much I please, Sebastian."

He smiled and his eyes flashed. "You will indeed, little lord."

She chose to ignore his threat and started in on the food, only for her hands to be slapped as she reached for it.

"Sebastian!" she shouted at him. "Do you set food before me only to behold?"

"Quite the opposite, my lord, but you have forgotten your table manners."

"What-"

She stopped short. Of course she would need manners if she were to ever blend into society. No one must ever know that Ciel Phantomhive spent the last 5 years on the streets, eating rubbish and sleeping in alleyways.

"Of course," she conceded. "Please remind me of my manners."

"With pleasure, little lord."

He tucked the napkin he had flourished under her chin and placed utensils into her hands, positioning them in the proper way. She was awkward with them at first, but quickly adapted, remembering how she had been instructed as a child.

The food was delicious. The simplicity of flavor was exactly what her starving mouth needed. She made short work of the toast, already feeling stuffed after a few slices. She sat back in her chair and savored her milk. The heat and sweetness of it sent warmth all the way down to her toes, which curled in pleasure. She wore an expression of innocent bliss, and Sebastian watched her like a cat watches a mouse: with hunger and unwavering attention.

She finished the last drop of milk and gave a little moan of satisfaction as she leaned forward to set it on the table. Sebastian gripped the mug before she set it down and placed it there himself. He stared into her eyes, especially the one containing their contract.

"Little lord, it is time for bed. You look quite enticing in your new outfit, but it's not fit to sleep in."

She looked up at him, her vision blurred with tiredness.

"We won't be sleeping, will we, Sebastian?"

He smiled and caressed her cheek. She sighed and leaned into his hand.

His lips were at her ear again. She felt his warm breath on her neck. "No, little lord, you have earned your dessert. We will indulge in a little sweetness before bed."


	5. Chapter 5

_This was a tricky one. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did._

Ciel followed him as if she were dreaming. Outside, the sun had fallen and shadows lurked beyond the windows. Sebastian held a candelabra to light their way as they made their way through the manor. To her, it seemed to be a labyrinth, and she feared to lose sight of her guide. Not that he would leave her behind. His food. More than that at the moment, perhaps. He didn't appear unhappy with their arrangement. And he was clearly able to make her experience incredible pleasure without so much as touching her. So why did he?

These thoughts were far too complex for her tired mind and she quickly abandoned them. They had reached her bedroom. The fire was stoked. Though she wondered briefly at that, she remembered that such an oddity was not strange at all for her demon butler. Thanks to the fire, the room was cozy and filled with an orange glow. It complimented Sebastian very well. His eyes blazed when she looked into them sleepily. She raised a hand to his face, wanting to feel the dancing shadows along his cheekbones.

The softest velvet over forged steel. Like nothing she had ever encountered before. His features were unnaturally beautiful. His very existence was an insult to nature. Every movement, perfectly coordinated, calculated. He left a trail of discord with the world, not quite fitting into those unspoken rules, "the way things work."

"My lord..." Sebastian seemed pleased by her touch. "You are becoming positively bold."

He set the candelabra on her nightstand and had her stand beside the bed as he undressed her.

She was quiet, lost in her thoughts.

"We can't have that, little master," he teased her, tugging on her untamed locks. They had grown significantly during her time on the streets. She probably looked more feminine than was wise.

She sighed, coming reluctantly back to reality. "Sebastian?"

"Hmm?"

"Am I pretty?"

"Beauty is entirely subjective. Are you asking my personal opinion or that which is generally agreed upon by society?"

"Yours."

The last of her clothing dropped to the floor, the trail of silk over her chest falling in a soft cloud. Sebastian placed his palm on her cheek and looked her in the eye. His pupils seemed to morph into slits and she was completely enthralled.

"My dear master, you are a pale and fragile being, filled with vitriol and yet soft as a kitten. You wish for revenge, but also for pleasure. Your eyes speak of sorrow and beg for a kind touch. You are a beautiful, melancholy creature, and I will thoroughly enjoy making a meal out of your flesh and your soul."

Ciel couldn't think of a single word in response. Her lips quivered, tears threatened her eyes. She fell to her knees at his feet.

"Ciel..." he murmured, and reached his hand out to her.

She pulled it to her face and kissed his palm.

"Sebastian," she whispered, "show me ecstasy."

"I will show you the sweetest agony and fill your ears with the sound of your screams. And you will beg me for more."

His eyes were blood red pools with the smallest black slit.

He brought her to her feet and lifted her onto the bed.

"Lie back, little lord."

She complied, licking her lips nervously. She raised her head to watch as he stripped off his gloves and coat, and rolled up his sleeves. His hair, almost unkempt in its cut, seemed to be the utmost of fashionable, never mind which fashion. It was long and hung around his eyes and ears. She wanted to run her fingers through it.

He did not remove any more clothing, somewhat to her disappointment and somewhat to her relief. She was scared of that part. Men had tried that with her before. Those men that Sebastian had killed. And others.

"Kitten, where do your thoughts wander?" he teased. "Keep your attention where it belongs."

He leaned over and pulled her head up slightly, supporting her neck, and he kissed her softly. He tasted of something so foreign she couldn't place it, but it was intoxicating. She licked his lips for more, and he opened his mouth, meeting her tongue with his own. He was aggressive and quickly subdued her tongue as he claimed her mouth and explored it at his leisure. His hands danced over her flesh, leaving fiery tingling where they touched. He teased her until she felt she would simply combust and her skin would set aflame. She moaned and squirmed under him, wrapping her arms around him as she attempted to take control. He rose from her lips and smiled at her efforts, which failed to move him even one inch.

He kissed his way to her ear. "Kitten, now is not the time to resist. Submit to me."

"Sebastian... I want..." She was breathless, as if all the air had disappeared from the room.

"I know what you want, kitten."

His fingers went down, down between her thighs and caressed her tender flesh. She whimpered in distress, not accustomed to these feelings. She looked into his eyes and what she saw terrified her. He looked like a starving man eyeing a sausage dripping with grease. She buried her face into his chest and tears came to her eyes as waves of pleasure rolled over her. She bit her lip to muffle her cries.

When her body finally relaxed, she remained a quivering heap on the bed and still unwilling to look him in the eye.

"Ciel." He nudged her face until she looked at him.

Her eyes were filled with tears. "Sebastian," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."

"I will never leave you, my lord." His eyes remained cat-like and burned red. "Get on your knees, where you belong, kitten."

She stared at him, realized she had no desire to disobey, no matter now bold his command was. Wasn't he supposed to be the one serving her? She found it hard to care as he stroked her cheek.

He whispered, "Kitten, you must trust that I understand your desires better than you do. Do you trust me, kitten?" He smiled, kind and gentle.

She nodded.

"Then get on your knees."

She raised herself from the bed, her limbs quivering, and went to her knees on the floor. He stood, towering above her, and turned her body so her back was to him. He bent to pick up the fallen strip of silk that had previously bound her breasts. He tickled her with it for a moment, trailing it over her flesh. She twitched, rolling her shoulders, only to feel his hand on her nape.

"Do not move."

She shivered at how close he was, disappointed when he stood up again. He drew the silk over her eyes, pulling her head back against his thighs. She caught a breath of his intoxicating scent and her mouth fell open. Her head fell forward and he tied the silk around it, blindfolding her. She felt a hitch of fear, reminded of when the men had pulled a sack over her head. Her hands went to pull it away, but were stopped by Sebastian's. He caught them deftly and drew them behind her back.

"What did I tell you, kitten?"

She felt a silk cord run around and between her hands, binding them together. Her breathing quickened and she pulled forward uselessly. He must not have even noticed her attempt, he was that strong. Her arms were pulled up behind her, forcing her awkwardly to a standing position and then to bend forward when she could rise no higher.

"Sebastian!" she cried out in fear.

"Trust me," he whispered, his breath hot on her neck.

Her lips quivered, but she made no other protest.

Another trail of silk was drawn over her back, cool and soothing as it created meaningless designs over her flesh. She relaxed slowly, becoming hypnotized by its movement. She hardly noticed when something else touched her flesh, something warm and firm. His hand ran down her back in a slow path down to her thighs, where it stopped and delved between them. He stroked her again, gently, moving his fingers inside of her in a rhythmic motion until she whined at his slow torment. He teased her until she felt her own fluids dripping down her thighs. Finally, he stopped for a moment, to her terrible disappointment.

"Mmmm, kitten, you are simply delightful."

He caught a trail of the liquid with his fingers and brought it to her mouth, just under her nose. It was overpowering. She could smell herself all over his fingers.

"Lick them."

She did, hesitatingly, and immediately regretted it. She preferred chocolate. He laughed at her expression and rubbed his hand over her mouth and nose, until she could sense nothing else but her own aroma. Then she heard a quiet rustle of clothing. Something very warm touched her cheek, warmer than his hands. It smelled like him, like the very essence of temptation, with a hint of sulfur. She breathed it in like a drowning man and exhaled with a soft hum of pleasure.

"Would you like to taste me, kitten?"

She knew that it was his cock he had brushed against her cheek. Something she had always found disgusting whenever she chanced an accidental glance at one in the past. But now... She wanted him, all of him. He was so beautiful, she couldn't imagine disgust for a single part of him. She nuzzled her cheek against him and opened her mouth. Only his fingers entered and she felt very disappointed.

He laughed. "You will have to earn that one."

He moved behind her again and she felt his hands on her hips, squeezing them lightly. His fingers slipped between her thighs again, dipping inside briefly. She squirmed, trying to entice him to linger. He did not, but a moment later, she felt something else between her thighs, something hot and very hard. She gasped as she felt him and then choked on the air as he pulled her hips into his own thrust, impaling her.

She felt a burst of pain and released a strangled cry. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Hold still, kitten, the pain will be over in a moment."

She sobbed and waited. After a few seconds, it began to fade, and she shifted her body around him, feeling every inch of him inside her. Every little movement triggered a burst of pleasure, but not enough. She squirmed.

"Sebastian," she whimpered, "Please."

"Hmm, you beg me so sweetly."

He finally began to move, slowly at first, then faster and harder, until he forced a breath from her with each thrust. He hit one spot inside of her and she fairly kicked him in pleasure. He moved one hand between her thighs and stroked her hidden flesh rapidly. Ciel shrieked and felt her insides wrapped around his cock, squeezing him until he let out a terrifying growl. She felt as he emptied himself inside of her, as she had seen a human man do to himself once.

After a minute, he pulled out of her with a slick sound and released her wrists. She collapsed into his arms and he held her close. He pulled the blindfold from her eyes. His eyes were no longer red and catlike, they were pools of endless black, threatening to envelop his face with a terrifying aura. He touched her cheek tenderly, his black nails elongated into claws.

"You make me forget myself, kitten."


	6. Chapter 6

She looked into his eyes and lost a part of herself there, in the bottomless depths. She would never find it again or even remember it, save in fading memory.

He was so beautiful. Transforming before her eyes into something nightmarish. That which made others afraid to dream had become the subject of her greatest desire. She reached out with a trembling hand to place it on his cheek, which hovered between solid flesh and something that was not flesh at all. He gripped her wrist as if it were a lifeline, the only thing to save him from eternal damnation. No, to pull her into damnation with him. She fell headfirst, laying the softest of kisses on his lips, and he responded with a fervor that nearly consumed her soul on the spot.

He walked her backwards and followed as she fell onto the bed behind her. He pinned her hands over her head and pressed himself between her legs, nearly inside her before she took another breath. She felt scared for the first time and struggled to free her hands, eyes wide. He stopped instantly, becoming completely still for a moment. His eyes were closed, he could almost have been asleep, but she knew that was not the case. She twitched her fingers experimentally and he squeezed her wrists until they went limp.

"Still for a moment, kitten," he said quietly, "I am a hairsbreadth from taking your beautiful body without a care for your comfort or pleasure." He opened his eyes and grinned, showing a set of very pointy teeth. "I wouldn't want you to fear your most loyal servant."

She went totally still, nervous even to breathe. But her body ached for him. Some part of her begged for her to press herself into him, just a millimeter, so he would sink into her willing flesh. Or to struggle against him. If she did that, she wouldn't even have to admit that she had spurred him on, leaving her to enjoy his response without her desires made obvious. Something else told her to wrap her thighs around him and yet another voice whispered not to move, not to snap his restraint if she valued her life.

Ciel thought her life held about as much value as a rotting corpse, but she thought he might not thank her for destroying his self-control. He was a proud creature, and vain. Vanity cannot bear the loss of a beautiful face. She remained still, breathing shallowly until he released his death grip on her wrists and rose from the bed, lacking a bit of his graceful movement. She finally noticed that he was naked, and found her eyes totally glued to his body. She looked over her own flesh, propped up on her elbows, and fairly devoured his pale figure, tall and covered with lean muscle. His male organ stood proud as well, as if it had not been satisfied moments earlier.

He growled.

Her eyes leapt to his face and saw that he was ready to pounce on her again. She gasped.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to stare," she mumbled, looking down and curling up defensively.

"My dear," he said tenderly, "I have never been more flattered by a mortal gaze. But," now speaking in a lustful growl, "you are fanning the flames of a raging fire."

She nodded, embarrassed and afraid. Her fear angered her, for she could not explain it. He had given her incredible pleasure, weaving her desires into reality, yet his passion unsettled her. Tears flowed and she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in the soft bedding.

"I'm sorry I've disappointed you," she sobbed incoherently into the pillow. He said nothing for a moment, caught off guard by all appearances. "You stopped because I was afraid, but I don't know why I'm afraid. I'm so stupid!"

"Kitten," he murmured, "come here." He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tearful face to his chest.

She clung to him, fitting into his body like a small child seeking comfort. He pulled back the covers and laid them both down on the bed. Pulling the blankets back up over them, he held her firmly to his body as she cried. She felt totally overwhelmed by her feelings and by the time her tears had dried, she was deep in slumber.

 _"Mama!"_

 _She was running toward the door to greet her mother, returning home. Why had she left? Mama must have gone to a ball. It seemed like a long time, an eternity. Mama laughed sweetly and embraced her, scolding her for wearing men's clothing again._

 _"What will they think when I take my lovely daughter to London and she looks like a bachelor?" Mama chided her but there was no venom in her words._

 _"Mama, I don't want to wear dresses, they're ugly!"_

 _"Oh, so your mama is ugly now?"_

 _Ciel gasped and cried, "You're beautiful, mama! But I look hideous in those frilly things! And they get in the way when I play with Elizabeth!"_

 _"Aren't you two a bit too old to be tearing through the gardens without a care? We must start teaching you manners or you will embarrass me to death!" Mama laughed and Ciel knew she didn't mean it._

 _But she kept laughing._

 _"Mama, stop laughing, you'll hurt yourself!"_

 _Mama shrieked and cackled and Ciel flinched away as her skin became hot to the touch. Then she screamed. Mama was on fire! She laughed and laughed as her features boiled and scarred from the flames. She pointed a blackened finger at Ciel._

 _"You have condemned yourself to hell! You will be the devil's whore and you will never see me or your father again," she spat._

 _"Mama," she sobbed, "please forgive me!"_

"I forgive you, kitten."

 _Ciel screamed as she watched her cackling mother sprout huge, feathered wings and fly, screeching toward her, hands curled and ready to strangle the life out of her._

"Save your screams for pleasure, little lord."

Her eyes flew open to see Sebastian's concerned face. She was pressed against him, their bodies totally flush. Her skin was covered in sweat and he had one leg between hers. His body was wrapped around her and he held her wrists behind her back, thrusting her breasts into his chest.

"Why are you holding me, Sebastian?" Her voice sounded hoarse.

"My lord, you were quite disturbed by your dreams and nearly did yourself injury. I thought it best to restrain you." She caught the smallest curl of his lip. He was quite smug with his convenient explanation for why she was wrapped around him like a damn whore.

The devil's whore.

Her mother's voice echoed and she tried to erase it from her mind. She had had nightmares about her family in the past, but never so visceral. Her skin still felt as if it had been burned by the flames.

"Kitten." He caressed her cheek. "There is no shame in what we have done.

"I sold you my soul!" she cried. "And then I let you have your way with my flesh. So much pleasure can hardly be a gift from God," she sneered.

His eyes burned and he tugged her hair, making her cry at the sharp pain.

"Do not be so arrogant as to think you had any choice in the matter."

She stared at him. He brought his lips to her ear.

"I wanted you, your soft, innocent little body, and I knew you could not resist me. You are my delicious prey and you could not disregard me if you tried."

Ciel screeched in anger. "Filthy demon! You are nothing more than my butler! Release me now!"

He laughed at her fury and pressed his thigh deeper between her legs. Her useless struggling only ground her flesh into his leg now, and she began to pant, feeling her body ache. Her screech became a whimper and her fury suffered a quick death, replaced by frustration and embarrassment.

"Don't do this," she pleaded, still struggling to free her hands.

"I do as my lord pleases. And as it pleases me." He smirked.

He flipped her so her back was to him, maintaining his grip on her wrists, and with his free hand, he danced over her skin. His thigh still pressed against her and she ground against it helplessly. He tickled her sides until she screamed with laughter, wishing she could sell her soul again to end the torment. She thought she would die of laughter but he moved his fingers to her aching flesh and she knew she would die of pleasure. She felt totally conquered and humiliated as he played her parts like a violin, pulling soft, involuntary sounds from her throat. But he refused to give her any real pleasure, only teasing her just to the edge and pinning her there, like a butterfly with one wing between his fingers, fluttering uselessly.

"Don't make me beg," came her broken whisper.

"Kitten, I will make you plead until your throat is raw."


	7. Chapter 7

It seemed like years before Sebastian had finally given her release, though it had probably only been a few minutes. He had brought her to the lowest depths of humiliation, past her attempts at violence, her hopeless sobbing, until she could only beg.

Ciel doubted she could even make a sound louder than a whisper now. She could feel nothing more than a vague tingling between her thighs.

"Well, kitten, that was quite a pleasant diversion." His breath tickled her neck. "But you really have been intolerably rude and I believe I owe you a little punishment. We must teach you manners, after all."

"Have you not punished me already?" Her voice had become a scratchy whisper and she cringed at the sound.

He laughed. "That was merely to teach you your place, and for my own amusement."

That's all she was to him. An amusement. And his food. He had been so kind to her earlier, but now that she had given him power over her, she thought he would likely revert to casual cruelty. What a fool she had been to trust a demon. Or to trust anyone. She had taken much better care of herself all these years than he was currently taking of her. Wasn't he supposed to be her butler? It seemed that he was the one giving orders and she following them.

She must put a stop to this.

"Sebastian, let me go this instant," she demanded, in the most authoritative voice she could muster. She did not struggle, only awaited his compliance.

He did not move, but she could sense his surprise. After a moment, he replied.

"Well, so the kitten has regained her dignity," he murmured. "Or made an attempt, at least." He laughed and released her, finally.

She sprang from the bed like it was on fire. The room was dark still; it was close to dawn but the sun was far from the horizon. She felt sluggish from her disturbed sleep and exhausted from fighting his attentions for so long. So it was that she saw him move from the bed in a blur, yet unable to react until he had pressed her down, face first into the bedding.

"How fares your dignity now, kitten?"

He caressed her derrière and his fingers wandered between her thighs. She growled into the blankets.

"Sebastian, let me go!" Her words were muffled and totally ineffective. She tried to push herself up but he held her down easily and squeezed the back of her neck painfully when she refused to submit. "You are hurting me," she sobbed, ending her resistance.

"My dear, I fear that is necessary at the moment, for we must teach you manners. I am sorry for the pain you must suffer."

He didn't sound sorry at all. Gleeful would be more accurate.

"What pain?" she asked him suspiciously. He did not reply. "Sebastian, what pain?"

Her question was answered with a resounding smack of flesh, from his hand to her ass. She screeched in fury and pain and fairly levitated from the bed before he slammed her back down.

"How dare you hit me in such a way," she screamed at him, "you filthy mongrel, you bastard son of a whore, hellspawn, stinking, steaming pile of excrement!"

"My lord, we really must clean out that filthy mouth of yours. I shall have to get a bar of soap for you when this is over."

"Don't even consider it, you wretched bastard!"

She shrieked again when his palm made another painful landing.

"Even to your servants, such language is beneath you, my lord." He sounded as if he was giving a lecture. "An English noble must always demonstrate proper decorum and restraint. Anything less is detestable weakness and will most certainly be taken advantage of by your enemies."

"It would seem my only enemy at the moment is you, Sebastian."

He slapped her again, this time playfully. "Are you so sure, my dear? As I recall, the slavers were your enemies, and it was I who eliminated them. Your current residence and assorted finery is totally of my doing. And I have done nothing to violate our contract, of pleasure and revenge."

"You promised to serve me!"

"Yes, but you did not stipulate that I do so. If I do, it is in a manner of my choosing."

She considered his words. "So I am merely a plaything, a brief amusement to you?"

He laughed. "Spare me your self-indulgence. You summoned me, with your bitter hatred and sweet desperation. I am merely a child of opportunity." He bent over her and whispered, "If my food affords me the chance to play before I devour it, who am I to refuse?"

Ciel shivered at his proximity, and at his words. He was cruel and terrifying, but it only seemed to make her want him more, in a way she couldn't explain. She arched her back, grinding her ass into his groin. He pulled away with a surprised sound.

"Well, does my kitten have a taste for cruelty then?"

She said nothing, only bit her lip, trying not to squirm against him. She could feel her thighs becoming slippery.

"Perhaps for pain as well?"

"No!" she cried, but he was not convinced.

He chuckled and removed himself from her, only maintaining his hold on the back of her neck. She whined at his absence, which became a shriek when he spanked her again.

"Sebastian, stop!"

He dipped his hand between her legs and spread the moisture over her thighs.

"But you don't want me to stop, kitten."

She whimpered and moaned when he returned his hand and thrust it deep inside her pussy. She squirmed and ground her body into his hand, but he removed it after only a moment to spank her again. This one stung like fire and she screamed at first, drawn out into a strangled sound of pleasure as he thrust into her again.

"Do you remember your numbers, kitten? Start counting."

"No," she moaned, "I hate you."

"Mmm, I love your hatred, little lord. It is aging your soul like fine wine and I can smell it."

He squeezed her ass and smacked it again, making her squeal.

"Count, my dear, before I lose my temper."

She said nothing, pressing her lips together. He sighed. His fingers wandered to her pussy again, rubbing her slick lips gently, teasing her. She whimpered, pressing against him, losing herself. Then she screamed. He had spanked her so hard, she thought he had set her ablaze. The pain seemed never to end, to echo itself until her scream became a wail and then a sob. The blankets under her face were quickly saturated with tears. He waited, saying nothing. After a minute, she finally spoke, a hoarse whisper, forced out between hiccups.

"One."

Immediately, he released her neck and knelt to catch her in his arms as she collapsed onto the floor in a heap of useless flesh. He wrapped her up and shushed her softly, murmuring comforting words and gently rocking her in his arms. He whisked a blanket from the bed and swaddled her in it.

"I am sorry, kitten. I should not have lost my temper, but you... You affect me so." He tipped her chin up to view her swollen, miserable face. "You are beautiful."

His eyes flashed red and he kissed her, taking her mouth, conquering it. She sobbed and pushed him away, still feeling a bit too tender in her rear end and her pride. He allowed her to press him away, but still maintained a fierce hold on her in his arms, which she accepted. He was warm and comforting. Even if he had just spanked her like no other. They remained in that position until the room was bright and the sun peeked through the curtains. She thought she might have dozed for a bit. She had almost drooled on his shoulder. He deserved it though. That and much more.

"Sebastian," she mumbled, her mouth not quite working properly from leaning against him so long.

"Hmm?" He spoke as if he had been interrupted from reading a vaguely interesting newspaper.

"I am hungry."

"So you are, little lord."

She hesitated. "Please make me some food, Sebastian." She tried to sound as humble as possible, having no desire to test his temper at the moment.

He looked down at her face and squeezed her body, then smirked. "No, kitten, I believe I owe you a bar of soap."

She gasped, wanting to slap him. She had almost forgotten that comment. If he even dared to try it... His eyes glinted, becoming cat pupils.

"Perhaps there is something else you would like to have in your mouth, little lord?


End file.
